New Year’s Eve at the Xavier Institute
by sunnysfunny
Summary: John gets drunk at the New Year's Eve party and let's everything out. -Not a slash-
1. New Year’s Eve

**Summary**: John gets drunk at the New Year's Eve party and lets everything out.

**Note:** Rogue has control over her mutation for this fic. (In other words, **she can** **touch others**.)

**New Year's Eve at the Xavier Institute**

John hated New Years Eve but this year he wouldn't be sober for any of it.

His only mission was to drink as much as he could, but he didn't think about the effects it would have on him opening up.

He went around the room grabbing as many beer bottles as he could. He would get one and stash it in the closet. When he felt he had enough bottles he went into the closet and drank secretly by himself. He drank approximately ten to eleven.

3

He got out of the closet and decided that he would mingle a bit. Wait…John _never_ mingles.

2

He went to the front of the room and raised his voice…he would not be ignored. Okay so this wasn't literally mingling it was more like a speech but he's drunk…what does he know?

1

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" John started. "I have a few things to say to a few people (hic) and I want _everyone_ to hear! (hic)"

"John, you're drunk. Be quiet before you make a fool out of yourself!"

He ignored Rogue's words of warning. He took a big breath and started _'opening up'_, "Jean the magnificent telepath, a.k.a. Ms. know it all…DOESN'T know it all! I cheated on all of her tests and I didn't get caught once! So…HA!"

"Well…now she knows…" Bobby interrupted.

"Yeah cause I told her smart ass!" John thought about what he just did…it didn't quite register so he just started laughing out loud to himself and went on with his speech.

"Ororo the weather witch, she's all sweet when there are people around; but I saw her out in the garden alone zapping helpless toads. Not all toads are creepy and disgusting, toots."

"Scott our…" John paused…his mind went blank "Eh, just Scott. (hic) He talks to his cars and caresses them. I think he loves them more than Jean." John grinned, "If he could…I bet he would marry one." (hic)

Jean glared at Scott.

Scott just shrugged…_some_ of what John said was true.

"Logan the one guy you want on your good side; he's all tough on the outside but on the inside he's a soft teddy bear. I saw him crying during Charlotte's Web when Charlotte died." John started laughing hysterically and practically fell on the floor. It was pretty hard for him to laugh when he would hiccup every 5 seconds.

Logan then clinched his teeth.

Scott laughed…in Logan's face.

Logan clinched his fist.

And Scott stopped laughing.

John barely got off the floor. Bobby was his next victim…

"And last but not least; Bobby (hic) …Rogue is oh so good"

Bobby quirked an eyebrow, "What is that supposed to mean?" He glanced at Rogue and turned back to John to listen to the rest.

(hic) "I banged your girlfriend last night." John walked up to Bobby and put his arm around the back of Bobby's neck and whispered, "You're one lucky dude" (hic)

John wobbled back to the front of the room. Everyone was silent and staring at him…only him.

"Why is everyone looking at me like that? Was it something I said?" (hic)

**A/N: (hic) Have a happy new year! **


	2. The Morning After

**A/N: **Thanks for ALL of the reviews!

**The Morning After**

John had passed out. Somehow he ended up in his bed. How did he get there? What occurred last night? He wouldn't remember a thing. More importantly, let's just say he made a lot of powerful mutants angry.

It was 7:30 in the morning. Still in last night's clothes, John was passed out in his bed like any normal person should be, hangover or no hangover.

Bobby opened the curtains, fiddled with the alarm clock, made an ice wall around John's bed, and left the room.

As soon as he shut the door the alarm clock went off. John alarmingly sat up in bed and instantly held his pounding head. Still holding his head he noticed shutting off the alarm wasn't going to be as easy as he thought.

"What the hell?" John said as he stood up and faced the ice wall that surrounded him. "Bobby I can't even turn the damn alarm off! Ahhhh!" John sat down on his bed trying to keep his head from exploding. His lighter was on the other side of the wall, but he did have a spare under his bed. John searched under his bed but it wasn't there. "Damn you Bobby!"

"Did I hear my name?" Bobby said over the alarm as he entered the room.

"Will you p-l-e-a-s-e shut it off!" John begged.

Bobby nodded. However, he walked like a snail and took forever to shut it off.

"Why are you torturing me?"

"Well, well, well…what a surprise…you don't remember."

"Remember what?" John asked confused.

Bobby smirked, "I'm not going to tell you."

"Well, can you give me my lighter so I can get out? Or am I going to have to piss out the window?"

Bobby shrugged as he threw the lighter over the wall. "By the way…you look like..."

"Like what?" John asked as he caught his lighter.

"Like cotton candy." Bobby tried not to laugh.

The fire starter melted the ice wall with pleasure. It distracted him briefly from his pounding head. He looked at his reflection in the mirror… something was off. It was his hair…it was pink. Yes, pink! John touched his hair, "Please tell me I'm dreaming!"

Bobby felt it was the right time to pinch him…hard…with an icy hand.

"OW!' John flipped the birdie at Bobby. Then he looked at the mirror again. "How the hell am I supposed to go out in public like this?"

Bobby shrugged, "Not my problem."

John turned around and glared.

"Don't give me that look. If the tables were reversed…that's what you'd say."

Looking back at his reflection in the mirror, John cursed at Bobby under his breath. "Who did this anyway?"

"Storm."

"What did I do to her? You're going to have to tell me eventually. If not I'll just _make _someone else."

Bobby laughed, "No one is going to take your threats seriously."

"You're right" John moaned. "You have no idea how badly I want to burn my own hair right now! The whole point of last night was to not remember last night! And now I'll be reminded of it every freaking time I look in the mirror. Better yet…when people point and laugh at me."

"Don't they usually point at you?"

"Yeah, but they use the middle finger."

"Just say you're that singer's brother."

"That's not funny!" yelled John.

"Just a little. But you know what's even more funny?"

"What?" John said as he started to flick his lighter.

"You banging MY girlfriend!"

John raised an eyebrow, "That's not fun-" he paused momentarily, _'Oh sh-' _

Bobby shot a stream of ice at John's feet. The ice went up to his knees. "Now _this_ is really not funny, Bobby!" John said, pointing to his feet.

"Oh yeah?"

Before John could do or say anything else, Bobby grabbed the lighter from his hand.

John rolled his eyes and half grinned. "Didn't your parents teach you to share?" he mocked, thrusting his pelvis.

Bobby gripped the lighter tight and tossed it onto the floor out of John's reach. He walked closer to his roommate, right fist clenched. He relaxed his fist, pointed his index finger at John and said, "This isn't over, Dyce." Bobby backed away and waved goodbye before turning his back to John.

Speechless, the pyromaniac crossed his arms and stared at the back of the other boy's head until he left the room. What else could he say? Saying sorry would have been a lie and it wouldn't change a thing. The damage was already done.

John sighed and looked down at his dilemma. He looked around him for something reachable to chip away the ice. The first thing he saw was a pen…Bobby's favorite pen. John was able to chip away some of the ice before the pen broke. He threw the pen onto Bobby's bed and grinned as the ink leaked out. Then he found a plastic fork. He couldn't believe he was actually trying to use it, "God, I feel like I'm in prison trying to break out with a nail file." The fork was from the Chinese food they had two months ago. Instead of tossing it into the garbage can he threw it on the floor again. However, now it's on Bobby's side. John almost gave up but something shiny under a pair of dirty socks caught his eye. It wasn't his lighter, but it would help him if he could reach it. The object was slightly to his right. John stretched as far as he could. If able, he would have kicked his own ass because he realized the fork would have been useful after all. Now he had to find something to push the object closer. He found one of Bobby's crappy CD's and used it to push the item closer. He was about to pick it up, but first he had an idea. He took the CD out of the case intentionally knowing what was going to happen. As soon as he slammed the CD into the ice, it broke. "I didn't do it." John announced to make it "official". Wasting no more time, John picked up the metal object he was going for originally. It was a nail clipper. He chipped away at the ice with the pointy thing that you use to get the gunk out of your nails.

It took John over two hours to get his feet out. _'I've got to buy cheap lighters and put them under the rug.' _He thought as he picked up his lighter from the floor. His feet were numb, his head was still killing him, he couldn't remember anything that occurred last night, and don't forget…his hair was pink! He didn't bother trying to cover it up. It was better just to leave it and act like it didn't bother him.

The fire-starter went down to the kitchen for coffee. The kitchen wasn't empty. Scott was there sitting at the table. No 'hi' or 'hello' or 'good morning'. Scott didn't waste any time BSing. **"**So I like my car more than Jean…did you have to tell everyone? You're probably the same way with your lighter." Scott paused and smirked, "That part about Wolverine was priceless!"

"What part?" John asked, reaching for a mug in the cupboard.

"You told everyone that he cried during charlottes web."

The empty mug fell from his grip and hit the edge of the counter, pieces of glass on the counter top and on the floor. He ignored the the mess, got another mug, poured himself coffee, and sat down at the table across from Scott. "Just great!" John said sarcastically. "My hair is pink, Bobby owned me today, and now I know eventually Wolverine is going make me suffer or kill me. I don't know which one is worse. Scott, kill me now!"

Scott got up and patted John on the shoulder, "You can handle him. We all know he's a big softy on the inside."

"Yeah, and that's all my fault! Can you at least blast him once for me? He will heal and then stab me. I won't heal. I'll be dead but at least… ahhh I don't know I'll be dead for crying out loud!"

"Someone needs to take a chill pill."

"Don't give me that!" John slammed the mug on the table. "I bruise easily and I'm too young to die!"

"Get Rogue to protect you. Logan would never hurt her." Scott suggested.

"Not a bad idea."

"Don't forget to clean up that mess." Scott said before leaving the kitchen.

John held his head in his hands. "My whole life is a mess."

* * *

John found Rogue in her room. The door was open, so he just let himself in. Instead of a normal 'hello' she slapped him.

"How could you do that you jerk! I told you to shut up. Did I not?"

"Umm."

Rogue slapped him again, "Now every one knows!"

"Stop hitting me! Yeah, I deserved the first one but the second slap?"

"It's because you don't even remember!"

"It's not entirely my fault."

She tried to hit him again but he ducked out of the way.

"Alright," John grinned and put his hands up in front of him, "I'll stop being an ass. Just get a grip, woman! I've been having a really bad morning."

Rogue crossed her arms, "Let me guess…you bought pink dye instead of blonde?"

John made a face, "Why would I dye my hair blonde?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. It just seems like something you would do."

"You wouldn't believe the morning I'm having. My only advice is…stay away from Bobby. Oh by the way, can I sleep in your room tonight?" John nudged her.

She pushed John out of her room. "What did I say?" He said as he stood in the hallway.

Rogue half grinned, "You know…you said that last night too before you passed your sorry ass out on the floor." She was about to slam the door in his face but she had one more thing to say, "Oh and I think I hear Brain calling you, Pinky!" Then she slammed the door.

"Wait! Are you saying I'm stupid or are you just referring to my hair?" John asked to the closed door. However, he didn't get an answer. _'Well, that's the last time I'm listening to Scott.'_

'_Have it your way, but you're going to have to listen to me.'_

He made a face and turned around. Jean didn't look too happy. "Follow me."

John followed Jean to the library; the one main area in the mansion he religiously avoided. She telepathically handed him books and piled them one by one on top of each other. Eventually they towered over John's head.

"Jean, what's the deal with all of the books? You want to see how many I can hold before they fall?"

"No." She paused, "You're going to read all of them to make up for cheating in my class."

John winced…this was going to hurt his brain more than anything else, "Please tell me you're joking."

"Does it look like I'm joking?"

"I wouldn't know…I can't see your face." He said flatly.

She telepathically lifted the books away from his face.

"Ok. You're seriously not joking." John stopped smiling.

"Now that that's straightened out. I suggest you actually read them because I will know if you read them or not, and as much as you would like to burn them…don't. You really do not want to test my patience Mr. Allerdyce."

John decided to keep his mouth shut and nodded instead.

Surprisingly he made it to his room without dropping any of the books. He placed them on the floor.

"Pyro."

Startled, John knocked into the tower of books and the messy floor just got messier. He cautiously turned around to see who was in his bedroom.

Logan grinned. John was freaking out on the inside, but he kept his cool. Logan could smell fear.

John stood extremely still, "Look Logan, I don't remember what happened last night so let's just put it behind us, okay?" He was going to hold out his hand so they could shake on it, but he knew his hand wouldn't still be attached to his arm if he did.

Logan was silent.

John lowered his head, "Lead the way." This was going to be painful.

He followed Logan to the lower level.

"I'm _really_ not in the mood!" John emphasized.

Logan had lead John to the danger room, holographic scenery but real danger.

"Can I at least choose the sequence?" John asked.

"No." Logan said as he started to the push buttons and flip switches on the control panel.

The danger room changed, its metallic floor was now covered in snow, and many snow-covered trees invaded the once open area.

John rolled his eyes at the holographic environment, "I was going to pick this one anyway."

When he didn't get a response John noticed Logan was gone. "Oh, I'm so scared!" he yelled sarcastically. However, he shouldn't have yelled because snow from the tree he was under fell on him. John sighed and brushed the snow off his head, and shoulders.

The pyromaniac walked through the boring, cold, snowy forest, knowing that Logan was around watching. "I know you're here!" This time John didn't yell. "I'd also like to point out that beating me up or killing me won't prove anything." John waited but there was still no sign of Logan. "Whatever. It's time to make this environment more pyro-friendly." John took out his lighter and set everything around him on fire. "It's not like I can do this in the mansion anyway. Well…I could but-" John paused as trees fell to the ground one by one. "Soon there won't be anything else left for me to destroy, Wolverine."

John watched as his flames devoured everything they came in contact with. Out of nowhere lasers were soon to follow. John ran as lasers just barely missed hitting his flesh. He stopped for a moment to catch is breath, this time paying attention to his surroundings—what was left of it. This would be the second time in the same day that he would have kicked his own ass because the trees could have been used as a temporary shield. However, on the positive side, the fire melted the snow on the ground so at least he didn't have to run through it.

John caught his breath and stayed focused pushing everything that occurred today aside. The danger room wasn't a game. _'Damn you Logan' _John thought to himself as he waited for another laser. He was through running.

John created a fireball in his hand…he was ready. A minute later he heard something behind him. He turned around cautiously, and out of nowhere there was Logan.

"You need to chill." Logan said before he doused John with a fire extinguisher. The fireball in his hand vanished.

John made it back to his bedroom all in one piece. So he was covered in concentrated carbon dioxide. However, his hair was still pink and out of everything that occurred this morning…that pissed him off the most.

While John was changing his clothes a question came to mind, _'It's good luck to start off a new year badly, right?'_

**A/N:** I want to thank: Sonny for his suggestions, Buck for his info, Matt for being my beta, and to the reviewer who suggested this chapter. Leave me a review…please? Hey you never know…something in the review can inspire an update or a new fic.


	3. Hell of a Year

**A/N**_**:** _The last time I updated this fic was in '06. I started writing the third chapter and I completely forgot that I started another chapter (my bad). I wanted to post this in '09 but it wasn't ready. Let's start off the New Year (and new decade) with laughs and randomness (my forte)... shall we? As always, enjoy!

_Italics_ – John/Pyro's point of view

**Hell of a Year**

The start of John's New Year was an indication of what was to come. Some say he deserved it and others were conveniently entertained by his suffering. Christmas came and went and the New Year was about to begin in less than an hour.

_You are not going to believe what happened to me this year. I didn't deserve half the things that occurred. I shouldn't be held accountable for the things I said and did while intoxicated. I know what you're thinking: 'well, what about drunk drivers? Shouldn't they be held accountable?' I agree, but I wasn't driving; I was just running my mouth while under the influence—which usually turns out to be a bad combination for anyone. What happened January 1st was just the beginning. The next day I bought cheap lighters like I said I would, and I hid them throughout the bedroom. There was never a pattern, but Bobby Drake would always find a way to make my mornings unbearable. For example, __when he left his signature mark on the outside of our door I__ really had to go to the bathroom and it couldn't wait. I didn't even have time to get dressed. I climbed out of the window and I shimmied shirtless on the ledge, in my boxers, in winter temperatures to the closest open window—it's the worst way to start the morning—I barely made it in time. I should have relieved myself in Drake's sneakers or something like that but it was my room too, and you don't crap where you sleep. Still to this day he holds a grudge. And he should. Rogue is definitely one of a kind._

_You would think Bobby Drake and I would have been separated after I inadvertently revealed what transpired between myself and Rogue on New Year's Eve, but for whatever reason he remained my roommate.__Drake wants to puncture to me to death with icicles. That sounds pretty ridiculous right? Well, that's how he wants to do the deed. By the way, he wasn't drunk when he said it. You would think he was because it's so stupid and utterly lame but he whispered it to me one morning—he thought I was sleeping. I told Scott what was said, but he didn't believe me because I couldn't refrain from laughing. The only reason I told him was to validate why I needed a room change. A verbal threat sounds better than just complaining that my drawers have been encased in ice or that I'm not able to leave my room because the door has been sealed with ice from the outside._

_My hair stayed pink for most of the year. I thought about shaving it off but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Trust me.I will never ever, ever, EVER, talk about Storm again! I'm not even going to look at her because I'll just look at her the wrong way and she'll punish me for it. I stared at my notebook in her class the entire time. She made me buy women sanitary napkins and tampons for the entire mansion. I had to take a bus to and from the store. I stood in the aisle dumbfounded—so many different types! It was overwhelming. Eventually I randomly threw products into the cart. When I was checking out, the clerk was purposely slow ringing each item—what a dick (Yeah, I know, I would've done the same). The plastic bags were clear so everyone I passed by and everyone on the bus knew what I had purchased. On the way back to the mansion I took a detour and got off two stops early. I passed by a high school and started flirting with a cheerleader. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and she was wearing a bright red cheerleading outfit. I never caught her name. The pom-pom chick could have warned me but I think she got a kick out of what was going to happen next. A tall, lean, jock (I'm guessing a quarter back) came from behind me and put his arm around the blonde. He called me a freak and told me to stay away from his girl. I retorted cynically (I don't remember what I said) and before I knew it I was on the ground with a sore jaw and a maxi-pad slapped to my forehead. As the cliché pair strode away, the blonde looked back and grinned. I thought, 'whatever babe, no amount of beat downs is going to change the fact that he's gay and using you to cover up that detail.' All storm seemed to be concerned with was that a package had been opened. Then she lectured me for about forty-five minutes on how they weren't toys. Sarcastically I thought, Wait. Really? They aren't funny looking airplanes? I'm almost certain she was PMSing at the time. She should have been glad that I didn't escalate the scene using my element of choice. I should have torched the football field. Still can. Still might._

_Rogue and Bobby broke up a couple of days after New Years. She refused to talk to me—not because of the break up—but because I announced it to the entire school. Go figure? If she wasn't satisfied with the mobile-refrigerator she should have ended it. Just trying to get close to her was a challenge. One glance of my flamingo locks__ and she would disappear. As a matter of fact, I was reminded of my hair quite often. I remember a little girl in the mall asking me if I was the tooth fairy. When I told her the tooth fairy wasn't real and that her parents put money under her pillow she screamed so loud that everyone in that area of the mall thought I was a pedophile. The little brat called me a liar and threw her ice cream cone at me. Ironically, pink strawberry ice cream was all over my shirt—correction—Bobby's shirt, that I borrowed. Aren't parents supposed to teach their kids not to talk to strangers? Shortly after the incident, I was promptly escorted out of the mall. It was embarrassing. Mall cops aren't intimidating. They're nothing without their segways._

_One ordinary day I was walking on a sidewalk adjacent from a park and I step in freshly already been chewed gum. I grimaced knowing what I stepped in before even looking at the bottom of my sneaker. I was distracted by a two-family home. Both doors were pink and the house itself was yellow. It made absolutely no sense. I walked over to the nearest bench and sat down. I looked at the bottom of my sneaker and I remember thinking, 'Oh look at that. The gum matches the color of my hair'. When I went to stand up I heard a noise like something was pealing. I looked down at the bench and then at the back of my jeans. The bench had been repainted recently. There was a sign but apparently me being simply oblivious is to blame. If the bench had been painted pink I think I would have thrown myself in front of a bus. Yes, I despise that color now. Never liked it but not it makes me cringe._

_I lost count of how many times Logan doused me with the fire extinguisher. When I would least expect it, he would jump out of nowhere and douse me once or twice a day. Morning, afternoon or night… it didn't matter. I control fire. I'm not made out of it! Who knew the guy was so sensitive? It's not like I kicked him in the nuts. Crap. I suppose it was kind of a low blow. Just frickin awesome! He's never going to stop dousing me. What a waste of extinguishers. If there is a fire in the mansion (there's one just about every other week) and I'm not around, they're all screwed. Hell, even if I am around, I'm not helping! They'll all look at me and say, 'Do something.' I'll quickly retort, 'Best of luck finding Logan's stash of extinguishers. He hid them well.' And then I'll nonchalantly walk away while the flames continue to consume everything in their path. It's glorious just thinking about it._

_I've been having horrible nightmares. I truly believe they're being planted in my head by a telepath. I don't really want to talk about them much because I might crap in my pants, which is how scary they are. I remember one had to do with going to a ski lodge and I lose my shark lighter. Can you believe that? Who would think of such a thing? And why the hell would I even go to a ski resort? If you ask me, that individual is pure evil! I didn't let go of that lighter for a whole month. I couldn't even put the lighter in my pocket because that's how it got lost in the dream. I'd tell you about the others but they are truly scary; and frankly, I'm tired of washing my clothes, so I'm going to keep the details of those dreams to myself._

_My birthday cake was a sad little cake—think of Charlie Brown's Christmas tree. It was lopsided and depressing. I didn't wish for anything as I blew out the candles on the reject cake. If I did, they would have backfired. I just know it. Every present I got was given because the gift-giver knew I would hate it. I received Pretty In Pink (haha very funny, Storm), a dead goldfish, and pink hair dye. The goldfish could have been bought that way but I really think the dumbass that bought it forgot that he had to take it out of the baggy—occasionally Bobby forgets simple things like that. Instead of an IOU, I received a UOM from Wolverine: 100 hours in the Danger Room. Rogue gave me a t-shirt that stated 'I'm with stupid', arrow pointing up. I'm surprised she gave me anything. I loathe novelty items but I didn't turn it into ash because it was from her. I wore it proudly; wordlessly making a statement: Yeah I'm stupid… so what? (Eventually I wrote on the back: Stupid people buy stupid things and give them as stupid gifts; therefore, Rogue is just as stupid as I am.) I also got an Nsync CD, which was from Cyclops, by the way. I guess he finally got tired of it. On second thought, he probably added it to his iPod so the CD is irrelevant. I use it as a coaster—I respect wood!_

_Speaking of iPods, I found one on the bus a week ago when I was ordered to go back to the store to get more sanitary pads. I guess Santa's real name is Ron. I don't know why I bothered to tell Scott because he just ordered me to put up fliers. What a tool. I said that to his face too. I told a Priest that I happened to pass by after I found it, and even he congratulated me. I was expecting something similar to Scott's anticipated response. Anyway as you probably have guessed by now I should have listened to the tool.__I was pacing the institute's grounds one evening, listening to my iPod when all of a sudden I was struck by lightning. The thing is… I don't recall it being cloudy. I was told the iPod attracted the bolt of lightning. The device was destroyed and I was out cold for three days. Bobby thought my hair looked hilarious and took a snap shot… while I was unconscious. In my opinion he ruined the picture by being in it with a big goofy white smile pointing at my hair as if it wasn't already standing out. I have to say; even though I was out, I still looked good._

_Damn this year to hell! I don't think one positive thing happened. I found two one-hundred dollar bills in the street. You'd think that was a plus one on life, right? were counterfeit and when I tried to use those bills I was detained and interrogated for five hours. How many different ways can you tell someone that you found the money on the floor? I'll admit being a smart-ass didn't help, but I was there for five hours and bored out of my mind. If you ask me, someone from the mansion planted the cash. You know what? I bet everything that happened to me was intentional. Wait, wait. On second thought, now I just sound paranoid. The entire year was one very long April Fools. Good riddance!_

_I've been holding on to the pink hair dye I got for my birthday. I made a promise to put it to good use and you can bet your ass I'm going to do just that._

_I know everyone is still talking… a__bout me. Seriously, they have hundreds of stories to talk about, but at least you heard from me my theories and what really happened._

John ran a hand through his hair, and quickly used the silver outline of a picture frame to make sure it wasn't pink again. He inhaled and then exhaled as he pushed the doors open to the ballroom. Everyone stopped what they were doing and gawked at him. It was like they were waiting for something to happen.

John swore over and over that he wouldn't make the same mistake again…

**A/N: **Have a very happy New Year! Should I continue or leave it at that and let you, the reader, come to your own conclusion? If you want more, I'll need suggestions, which is how chapter 2 got started. I'm looking forward to the reviews, so review away! (I marked this story as complete, but that's up in the air as I'm leaving that decision up to all of you).

I hope this chapter is funny. I've read it so many times I can't tell anymore.

Let's see… I was walking to a bakery to pick out my birthday cake when I saw a joint house with pink doors (however, I couldn't recall the color of the house because the doors were distracting and made me think of this story). My friend found an iPod on a bus. I saw a news clip where a guy got hit by lightning possibly because of the iPod—so that has happened—Mother Nature has an odd sense of humor and that's why she is awesome! _Nature always gets the last word_.


End file.
